


Consequences

by bi0nicbuckyb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:36:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi0nicbuckyb/pseuds/bi0nicbuckyb





	Consequences

“That’s a shot, inmate,” Mr. Winchester said, handing you a slip of paper, his brow furrowed and his expression was angry. You were only here for a minor drug charge. When the officer pulled you over you were only carrying an ounce of pot, but it landed you a year in prison. You had gotten into an altercation with a fellow inmate at breakfast on purpose, because you knew the consequences - especially when Dean was around. He was one of the toughest guards in the prison, and also one of the sexiest. He had light blondish-brown hair and gorgeous green eyes. His jawline was impeccable, and delicious scruff lined his chiseled cheekbones. When he patrolled the mess hall, you watched him walk around, admiring how nice his ass looked in his hunter green uniform. 

As he walked away, you unfolded the piece of paper he had handed you. A note, scrawled him his unexpectedly nice handwriting, was written in the margin. 

Meet me in the D hall closet after lights out. No excuses. Don’t be late. 

Your guts twisted inside your stomach, and your heart fluttered. This was Dean’s way of letting you know that you were going to get your punishment for what you did at breakfast, and he was going to give it to you personally. 

You passed the day by as quickly as you could, crocheting and reading old, beat up, water damaged books from the prison library. You took a shower early, retiring to your bunk to stare at the ceiling and wait until lights out. When everyone in your hall was asleep, you tiptoed to the bathroom to look at your appearance in the mirror. You fluffed up your hair as best you could, biting your lips between your teeth to make them look plumper. As quiet as a mouse, you made your way down the hall to the storage closet at the far end of your block. You twisted the knob slowly, afraid of making any noise, and stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind you. 

You were early, the way Dean liked it. He always picked this closet to inflict your ‘punishment’ because it locked from the inside. Your entire body tingled thinking of what he was going to do to you when he got there. You leaned against the nearby wall, trying to remain calm and hide your excitement and nerves. A few moments later, you could hear his boot steps echo against the grungy tile floor outside the closet door. You knew the drill. He was going to make rounds and circle back, the closet you were standing in his final destination. Your breath began to quicken as the footsteps grew louder and closer to the door in front of you. You watched as the knob turned, and Dean appeared in the doorway. 

“You’re early,” he whispered, closing the door behind him and turning the lock. “Good girl.”   
You swallowed hard, not saying anything in response. You were only allowed to speak when Dean granted you permission. He stood before you, his mere presence so powerful and dangerous it terrified you - but, you couldn’t get enough. It was to the point now, as this morning, that you were getting in trouble on purpose, just to end up in this tiny closet with him. He was so close to you now, his scent intoxicating your senses. He smelled of whiskey and tobacco, leather and aftershave. Dean’s jaw clenched under his skin, as he took in your appearance. He stared directly into your eyes, ensuring eye contact was made between you. You knew better than to look away, or your punishment would be worse. 

He reached down and slipped his belt out of the belt loops, folding it in half and holding it in his hand. He walked around you in a circle, surveying you, stalking you like a lion stalks its prey. He drug the belt along your shoulders, down your back, and along the front to your breasts. You inhaled sharply, as he stopped to stand right in front of you, his eyes now a deep emerald - dark and glossy with lust. 

“Take this off,” he commanded, folding his arms and waiting for you to obey. 

You pulled your orange, scratchy top off, placing it gently down on the cabinet next to you. You didn’t bother wearing a bra, knowing Dean preferred you without one. He licked his lips at the sight of your naked breasts, his gleaming white teeth scraping sensually over his bottom lip. He took the belt and ran the cold leather along your breasts, allowing your nipples to stand at perfect attention. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” he breathed, taking one of his large hands and palming your breast. “These next.” He gestured to your matching orange pants, and you shimmied them down your legs, laying them on top of your shirt. You were now stark naked in front of the delicious guard, goosebumps rising on your bare flesh. He smiled now, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“Bend over,” he directed, pointing the belt towards the cabinet your clothes laid on. You bent your body over where he indicated, gripping the other end of the cabinet for dear life, knowing what was coming. “You get three today, inmate. You were a very bad girl this morning. Take a deep breath.” You inhaled deeply, before hearing a sharp ‘thwack’ followed by a burning sensation on your backside as the belt made contact with your skin. You wanted to cry out but you couldn’t, knowing the punishment would be much worse. 

“Again,” he whispered, as the belt made contact with you for a second time. You arched your back some, the pain turning into a odd sense of pleasure. Dean placed his large hand on the small of your back, pushing you back down against the cabinet. “Last one, inmate. Breath.” This last time was the hardest, and you bit your lip so hard it bled to keep your screams of pain and pleasure inside. 

Dean rubbed his hand over the rising, red welt, easing some of the pain. His hand found your hair, tugging you upwards, your back pushed right up against his front. With his hand still fisted in your hair, his mouth found your ear, his hot breath fanning over your exposed neck. 

“You like this don’t you, inmate,” he asked, taking the shell of your ear between his teeth. “Tell me you like it.”

“I love it,” you choked out, and he chuckled behind you low in his throat. 

“Even better,” he replied, letting go of your hair and spinning you around to face him. “Get on your knees.”

Your knees met the cold tile floor underneath you, a shiver running through your body. Dean took your hands in his and guided them to the button of his slacks. WIthout him telling you what to do, you already knew what he was expecting. Your fingers fumbled over his button and zipper, eventually undoing them and pulling his long, hard cock free of his boxers. He sighed as your hand wrapped around his length, his eyes glazed over with impenetrable lust. 

“Go ahead,” he muttered, his chest rising and falling in anticipation. “You know what I want.” 

You took the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the tip, tasting the salty precum that already resided there. You hallowed out your cheeks and sucked, moving your soft lips down his length, every vein brushing against them as you took him in deeper and deeper. Soft grunts could be heard from above you, as Dean started to rock his hips back and forth, matching your rhythm. After a few moments of you being in control, Dean took your hair in his hands, pulling it away from your face. 

“I want to see this pretty face while i fuck your mouth,” he growled, bucking his hips up, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat over and over. You sucked your cheeks in with each thrust, allowing your mouth to wrap tightly around him. His cheeks and face became flushed, his chest rising and falling. Suddenly, he pulled his cock out of your mouth with a wet popping sound. 

“Stand up,” he said, hooking his hand under your armpit and pulling you to your feet. “Bend over again.” 

You obeyed, and assumed your position. You felt his strong hands move along your back, shoulders, and hips. He stopped at your hips to squeeze them, before continuing down to your ass. You jumped as his hand made contact, spanking you hard, the noise ringing out in the tiny room. He reached down to pump his cock lazily a few times, before easing it inside you, allowing you to accommodate his large size. After he knew you were good and ready, he gripped your hips and pounded into you hard, rocking the cabinet back and forth. 

Pockets of white and black clouded your vision, as he relentlessly brushed the sweetest spot inside of you, over and over. All of this had to be quick every time, for the fear of getting caught. In your mind, that was the sexiest part about it - the thrill of getting caught. You knew Dean felt the same, even if he didn’t say so. 

He continued to pound into you relentlessly, so hard you could feel his balls slap off your sensitive clit. You could feel your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, the rubber band threatening to snap, but you didn’t dare cum unless Dean told you to. You clenched your muscles and tightened your walls around him, and he growled in response. This was your way of telling you how close you were, how good he made you feel. 

Dean reached around and placed his hand over your mouth, careful not to cover your nose so you could breath. He pulled you back to him as far as you could go, while he bucked his hips up into you deliciously. 

“Cum for me, inmate,” he whispered, the smell of leather on his hands from the belt infiltrating your nostrils. “Right now. Let me hear you.”

With his words, your world came apart. You moaned loudly, mewls of pleasure escaping you, being muffled by Dean’s hand. After a few more pumps deep into you, you felt Dean’s cock twitch as he released his warm, sticky cum inside you. He leaned forward, placing his sweaty forehead on your back, before placing a small kiss on your shoulder. You heard him behind you button up his slacks and buckle his belt. After a moment, you stood up from the cabinet to face him. 

“Get dressed,” he commanded, walking towards the door. “Stay out of fucking trouble, inmate.” He opened the door to the closet but, before he did, he winked at you. Just like that, he was gone. Little did he know, you were already cooking up a way to misbehave as soon as possible.


End file.
